


Dakimakura

by Matloc



Series: The emperor's return [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akakuro - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, Dakimakura, Light Angst, M/M, basically Kuroko being his adorable precious self, embarrassed!Kuroko, ft. Kuroko humping a body pillow, horny!Kuroko, lonely!Kuroko, oreshi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matloc/pseuds/Matloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunk and lonely Kuroko takes advantage of Kise-kun's present, and Akashi catches him in the middle of the act. OR: Kuroko violates a dakimakura. EVEN MORE ALTERNATIVELY: how your resident shithead author tried to turn a crack prompt into actual srs angst plot sorry not sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dakimakura

**Author's Note:**

> whoops I'm not good at keeping promises because it doesn't have enuff fluff for a 7-page poop
> 
> I tried to keep the language neutral during the 'im so arone' monologue so that it doesn't seem too angsty WHY AM I EVEN WRITING ANGST FFS U HAD ONE JOB BRAIN
> 
> I wanted AkaKuro to be in the same uni (Toudai) so I could have an excuse to write PDA moments, but considering Tecchan’s grades…. I don’t think that’s possibru OTL

**Dakimakura**

 

 For the first time in his life, Kuroko Tetsuya was in a dilemma.

When it came to basketball, his mental processing speed would be overclocked to such a great degree that he never had to stop and think when he was in the moment, because the answer almost always came to him instinctually.

But this was not basketball, and Kuroko was having a hard time deciding whether he should Ignite Pass a ball into Kise’s face or steal Aomine’s gravure magazines and hurl them down the Tokyo Bay.

“Kurokocchi?” a worried voice pulled the blue-haired boy out of his silence.

“I respectfully decline your gift, Kise-kun.”

“E-ehh? But – but Aominecchi said it’d make you happy!” the blond wailed, pointing at the tanned basketball player who was currently doubled over in laughter.

“Aomine-kun is an idiot, but you’re an even bigger one for listening to him.”

“Hey!” Aomine’s protest fell on deaf ears while Kise was too busy cowering under Kuroko’s glare.

“But it’s custom made! And well,” Kise straightened up and rubbed the back of his neck, “You were looking kinda gloomy these days so…” He trailed off, concern evident in his tone.

Kuroko scrunched his eyebrows. Gloomy? Was that how he’d seemed to the blond? His mind trudged back into the past week, trying to recall any instance indicating a change in his countenance that would cause Kise to come to that conclusion.

“I don’t think this is appropriate for any occasion, Kise-kun,” he sighed, unable to hide his bemusement. Even if Kise had been right in his assumption, he still couldn’t comprehend why on earth he would follow through with Aomine’s idea – which he surmised was probably made in jest, and Kise, being the emotionally insightful wonder that he is, took it literally – and get him something so outrageous.

The blond refused to cave, “But you looked so lonely, Kurokocchi! I know Akashicchi hasn’t been around lately so you’re probably spending all your time all alone at home, right? And you won’t let me stay over either, so mean…”

Kise launched into one of his notorious tirades again, but the shorter man had already zoned out at the mention of his lover. His eyes swept across the snow-covered ground, deep in thought.

Ah.

That’s why.

He glanced at the man ranting before him, at his expressive amber eyes, at his snow-covered golden hair, at his arms flailing around in that overdramatic flair that Kuroko was all too familiar with, and he wondered why he’d ever thought someone so stupidly honest would even have the mental faculties to pull such a distasteful prank.

It was a genuine gift, still distasteful but – he unconsciously hugged the object closer to his shivering body and found that it felt oddly warm in the stark chill of winter.

His irritation melted like the snow on his hands.

“Please die, Kise-kun.”

“Eh? But Kurokocchiiii!”

Well, only a little.

….

Kuroko wasn’t really thrilled with the idea of having to trudge back home with Kise’s present, but he’d been taught not to decline anything that came with genuine feelings.

He set the gift down on his bedroom floor, half wondering how to get rid of it without actually disposing of it, half curious as to how exactly it could have been designed.

Feeling no judgmental eyes in the comfort of his bedroom, he made up his mind. He reached out to the coarse wrapping and meticulously tore at the split, the contents of the gift finally coming into view. He was gently pushing down on the glittering cover when his jaw dropped in surprise, and he ended up accidentally tearing the whole wrapping in one go as he fell back, onto his bed.

When the eager blonde had thrust the gift into his hands, the softness of the object was enough to give away the fact that it was a dakimakura, and Kuroko had obviously assumed that it was one of Kise-kun himself.

The impassive red eyes staring back at him, however, made him realize why the blond had called it _custom-made_.

He definitely owed Kise-kun an Ignite Pass, preferably to his spleen.

….

Cuddling with his lover in bed wasn’t something Kuroko particularly hated.

In fact, he had never had the opportunity to form an opinion about it; it was a foreign idea to both of them and they’d simply never felt the need to put it into action. He wasn’t terribly fond of the heat brought about by human contact during sleep, so they each kept to the side as they welcomed the lull that came with the aftermath of their nightly activities. On the rare occasions that the redhead slept over, that is.

Which was why the thought of cuddling with a dakimakura of Akashi Seijūrō was nigh preposterous, yet here he was, lying in bed, arms wrapped around the wretched pillow as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He wasn’t sure how things turned out this way but he placed the blame on the half-eaten box of chocolate rum balls that were innocently sitting atop his study table.

He’d bought them in honor of Akashi successfully passing his exams, scoring the top seats yet again. Not that it was a surprise, Akashi-kun would always tell him in that frustrating matter-of-fact manner of his, it was expected of him, he wouldn’t settle for anything less, after all.

Kuroko still wanted to celebrate, much to his lover’s chagrin, but when he’d switched tactics and mentioned that the momentary reprieve from exams also meant that they’d have more time to spend together, Akashi’s subsequent silence signaled his acquiescence.

Or that’s what he’d thought.

The sound of the clock ticking was deafening in the silence of his bedroom as he waited for the intercom at the front door to come to life, reading a novel he couldn’t even remember the plot of because the periodic chime of the hours passing by had continued to put a damper on his mood.

The clock hands had soon struck midnight, and the blue-haired man had already consumed half of the celebratory gift by then, all by himself, and learnt that he was amazingly, stupendously terrible with alcohol.

He also learnt that chocolate served as great comfort food, because that was exactly what he had needed as his augmenting intoxication devolved him into a pitiful mess of anger, frustration, sleepiness, depression and… loneliness.

The couple had gone off to different universities, landing Akashi, who became a Toudai student, more than an hour away by train. Kuroko had moved out of his house into a spacious double bedroom flat nearby his campus, courtesy of his uncle, the owner, who got bit by the travel bug and only dropped by every few months or so, all to Akashi’s approval. He’d never been one to splurge recklessly, but Akashi had been precariously keen on purchasing a deed for his lover out of his own pocket if it meant that he’d stay off the streets and away from shady neighborhoods.

As such, their hectic university lives, more so with Akashi’s preparation to take over his father’s seat, left the two with not enough free time on their hands, but ultimately it was fine as long as they could meet every once in a while. It was worth it.

That’s what Kuroko wanted to tell himself, at least. But it was obvious how deeply he was affected by Akashi’s absence tonight.

This was the first time it had happened.

Now Kuroko never took things for granted, least of all his lover, who had always been sincere and diligent in their relationship, traits that Kuroko accredited to what he presumed to be Akashi’s ever incessant and harsh training from his youth as heir to the family name.

Even so, Kuroko had hoped that Akashi hadn’t come to start viewing their relationship as another chore.

Kuroko wasn’t one to ask for too many things, and he wasn’t clingy, more aloof than anything, in fact.  He’d assumed Akashi didn’t mind. The two had always respected each other’s space. It was a stable dynamic they’d built over the years and for the first time Kuroko was afraid that it might have been disrupted.

When did the fact that things weren’t perfect start to bother Kuroko?

The couple didn’t meet often enough, but when they did it allowed Kuroko to forget all his worries, and the moments they spent together became all the more precious to him. So he thought he was fine with their circumstances – that _they_ were alright.

Today, the one time things didn’t go as planned, finally forced Kuroko to face the possibility of the worst of his fears materializing: that their carefully built balance was starting to tip over.

It was almost palpable, his negativity, that had been slowly growing over time, which Kuroko could feel was starting to disrupt the flow of things that had kept him complacent for so long. He knew he couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

He thought back to what his blond friend said at the park. Kuroko had spent several nights alone, it was something he'd grown used to as an inevitable contingency, but this was the first time he’d ever acknowledged this pervasive feeling of loneliness.

It caught him off guard, what felt like an anvil slowly sinking into his body, and Kuroko had to wonder if the distance he had so obstinately maintained between the two, ironically out of good will, had ever weighed down this painfully on Akashi too.

A sigh left his lips.

When had Akashi Seijūrō become so centered inside his world?

Kise-kun was too perceptive for his own good, the blue-haired man thought as his eyes settled over the body pillow he’d gotten him.

Red eyes stared back at him, challenging him with their apathetic gaze, and the weight of his loneliness coiled around him until it gave rise to a slightly different, and all the more overwhelming, feeling: _longing._

Before he knew it, Kuroko was reaching over to tug the dakimakura to his side, and that was how he’d found himself in his current pitiful state, hugging a body pillow of all things. It was hardly a substitute for the real thing, but as his vision was filled with intoxicating red, he couldn’t help but envision that same feverish gaze peering at him from above, not apathetic but burning with an intensity that made Kuroko feel like a piece of meat, begging to be devoured.

The room suddenly felt too warm.

Perhaps it was the alcohol in the chocolates, or the shadow of loneliness falling over him before, or perhaps it was the vague sense of dissatisfaction that came with having a reminder of his lover so close to him, leaving him craving _so, so badly_ for the real thing, because that was all it took to send blood rushing down to his nether regions.

He was notably vexed: at Akashi, who evidently didn’t even need to be present to have this wondrous effect on him, but mostly at himself for losing all sense of self-control and dignity as he reflexively rubbed against the pillow, his clothed member digging into the softness.

His face burned in shame as the dakimakura stared back at him, and closing his eyes did nothing to curb the imaginary sensation of Akashi’s eyes roaming over him, but that didn’t stop him from sliding his pants down, along with his boxers, freeing his hardening cock, and proceeding to grind harshly into the body pillow.

He hugged the body pillow closer, and it felt all too hot against his body, but it couldn’t replace the delicious heat of skin against skin, with nothing in-between, and Kuroko regretted ever dismissing the notion of cuddling because, right now, all he wanted was to feel as close as humanly possible with Akashi, and even then he knew it would never be enough.

The pillow felt rough against his erection, resulting in a gasp and a slip of his lover’s name, “Seijūrō-san.”

“Tetsuya?”

Blue eyes flew open in surprise, glancing past the pillow at the object of all his frustrations, standing at his doorway and looking positively offended.

He was literally caught with his pants down by the last person he wanted to see right now.

….

“Tetsuya,” Akashi began after what felt like the longest five seconds of an awkward staring contest, “What is the meaning of this.”

It wasn’t really a question as much as it was a scolding.

Kuroko should have just thrown the stupid dakimakura out the window.

When Akashi was met with more silence, he tried a different approach, “Who gave that thing to you?” He gestured to the offensive object trapped in Kuroko’s arms.

The answer came instantly this time, “Kise-kun.”

The redhead sighed, _of course_ , before pulling out his phone to dial the blond idiot’s number. “Hand that vile object to me, Tetsuya, I’ll make sure it is dealt with properly.”

Something petulant awakened at the redhead’s words, “No.”

The resounding silence that followed made Kuroko clutch the pillow tightly.

Akashi gave his blue-haired lover another chance, “Pardon?” A warning rang clear in his tone.

“Seijūrō-san, please go away. You’re annoying me right now.” Kuroko just wanted to go back to making love to the pillow.

Akashi’s stare narrowed in admonishment. Pointedly ignoring the other’s request, he walked over to the bed to perform a better appraisal of Kuroko’s current situation. It was only then Kuroko realized how he must have looked right now, pressed flush against the dakimakura, his lower region completely exposed, cheeks red from the alcohol, misty eyes betraying his hunger, which had only grown ever since the redhead had stepped into his room. His body’s reactions only served to annoy Kuroko more, so he hid his face in the pillow.

He hated the way the man held so much power over him.

“You’re drunk, Tetsuya,” the redhead’s voice sounded amused for a second, “But that does not explain why you’re so cross with me.”

A soft mumble was nearly swallowed up by the pillow, “You’re late.”

“As I promptly informed you via mail hours ago. Have you not checked your phone?” Blue eyes briefly flittered towards a small, red object lying in one corner of the room, attached to a charging dock.

Oh.

He’d forgotten to charge his phone.

Feeling abashed, stupid, but most of all relieved that Akashi hadn’t actually absconded on him, it lifted a meaningful weight off of Kuroko’s chest, but the childish urge to pout still remained, keeping him quiet.

Not that Akashi needed any confirmation. He didn’t put it past Kuroko to be so absentminded that he’d forget about his phone.

It was hard to find such a trait endearing but a certain fondness swelled within Akashi’s chest all the same.

He leaned over the smaller man, trying to ignore the wretched object in Kuroko’s arms.

“Tetsuya.” His breath was hot as it tickled Kuroko’s ear, sending delicious shivers down his spine. “Could it be that you missed me?” the blue-haired man burrowed his face into the dakimakura, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

A smile pressed into Kuroko’s cheek, and then he knew that it was a vain effort.

Soft lips slid slowly along the side of his neck, making him quiver and grip the edges of the body pillow so hard that he could feel his nails biting into his palm through the fabric. A harsh nip at a particularly sensitive spot made his breath hitch in his throat, pleasing Akashi.

 “As happy as it makes me knowing that you missed me _so dearly_ ,” frigid fingers brushed against his member and he couldn’t help but whimper at the sudden contact, “I’m quite certain you’d much prefer the real thing.”

Akashi’s voice had taken on that delectable, saccharine lilt that was only reserved for his lover’s ears, and that was more than enough for Kuroko to forget about everything else that wasn’t, “Seijūrō-san.” His own voice sounded so hoarse, _so hungry_.

Akashi hummed in approval, “Which do you choose, Tetsuya?” It was an unfair question since the redhead knew the answer already.

Kuroko finally turned away from the dakimakura, locking his eyes on the man looming over him. He licked his lips before parting them to seal the deal for the night.

“You.”

He gripped the collar of a velvet jacket and pulled the larger man down on top of him.

It would always be Akashi Seijūrō.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Omake: and the next morn Bakashi headed over to Kise's place and went  
> 'u turned my Techhuya impure now u shall die' ¯_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ง-]—- ᴇɴ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇ
> 
> ONLY KUROKO WOULD GET DRUNK OFF RUM BALLS ohhh u sweet innocent bby I want 10 of you /explodes  
> Whoops I hope rich kids in Japan get their own bank accounts by the time they’re in college, else I’m gonna have to pull a random reason outta my ass as to why Bakashi has a disposable income fresh out of HS.
> 
> So I accidentally brought out Kuroko's abandonment issues, only vaguely tho. I seriously didn't mean to, but that's the direction it ended up going anyway #SADLYF
> 
> So the very last line's supposed to be signifying Kurobby's newfound resolve that he'll be more lovey dovey, haha (✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞


End file.
